The Ancient and Most Noble House of Peverell
by A Wanderer in the Snow
Summary: Harry receives an unexpected letter from Gringotts.
1. The Letter

_Dear Mr Potter, _

_ As per the Will of the late Sirius Black, last male descendent of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, all goods and belongings of said House and estate have been transferred into the Potter Vault._

_ In light of recent events, pertaining to the death of the Dark Lord Voldemort, it has been shown that the line of Potter are the last surviving descendants of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Peverell. _

_ Note that, this only occurred upon the reaching of your majority and that due to recent events you have been uncontactable. However, upon the reaching of your majority, the Ruling of Grimnok was invoked, as set out clearly in the Accords of Merlin. Due to the recent disturbance at the bank, caused by your recent violation of the Vault of the Noble House of Lestrange, we have been unable to provide usual services._

_ Hence, five days remain until the contents of the Vault of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Peverell reverts to the bank, as set out in the Accords. This is your final notification._

_ It has also been noted that upon your disappearance you have unlikely been able to receive correspondence, therefore, we would like to remind you that, upon reaching your majority, the Potter Vault has opened to you, as set out in the Will of Mr and Mrs J Potter._

_ You will be required to present yourself at Gringotts Bank, Diagon Alley to collect your Key._

_ Upon the event of your death, prior to the collection of your Key, the contents of the Vault will revert to the bank._

_ Yours sincerely, _

_ Gringotts_

Harry looked up, 'I think I'm going to need to read this a few more times.'


	2. Translation

**Translation**

* * *

'So…' Ron began, running his hand through his hair before giving up and just asking, 'What?' in utter confusion.

'Bill will know more about this kind of thing,' Ginny interrupted helpfully and not for the first time, Harry wished Hermione's parents had been more understanding.

'I think, I've just about got it sorted out,' Harry replied, looking at the list he had written. It was a translation into plain English of all the "shifty goblin political claptrap" as Ron had called it.

'Sirius' old stuff has been transferred into my Vault; we already knew that he left me Grimmauld Place and Kreacher. It looks like whatever was in the Black Vault is now mine too; I've got no idea what the "estate" means though.'

'You can ask Bill.' Ginny said promptly.

Harry rolled his eyes; he'd already had this discussion. He wasn't exactly in Bill's good books at the moment and that was Ron's fault; if he hadn't been shooting his mouth off about him and Ginny getting back together or "messing Ginny around" as Ron had called it at the time, he would have asked for help. The fact of the matter at the moment was though, that, for the moment, Bill had the wrong impression of what Harry and Ginny's relationship. Ron might have got over him and Ginny getting back together fairly quickly, but Bill was naturally more suspicious over his only sister.

Harry had an ace up his sleeve though; Fleur was on his side, she understood. It would take time for her to convince Bill though and until then, Harry was staying out of the way. Fighting Death Eaters, giant snakes and trolls was one thing; but Ginny's oldest brother could be scary.

'I now own Sirius' old stuff,' Harry repeated forcefully, avoiding the eyes of his grinning girlfriend, 'I can't believe I was related to _Tom Riddle_ though…'

Ron rolled his eyes, 'Like, hundreds of years ago, mate; centuries, in fact. All the purebloods are related somehow, ask Dad.'

It was true though; apparently what Harry had seen in Bob Ogden's memory was true. The Gaunts were descended from the second Peverell brother; hence Marvolo Gaunt's misguided claim to the Resurrection Stone being a family heirloom.

Whatever had been in the Peverell Family Vault had been passed down through the centuries, through the Gaunts and eventually, somehow, into Voldemort's clutches. Voldemort was dead though and the line of heirs stretched all the way to Harry himself, according to the Goblins. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of it; had Tom Riddle even known he was the heir of the Peverell Family? Had he searched the contents of the Vault?

Harry suspected that whatever was in the Vault would be full of terrible and dark magic, or that it would simply be empty; the contents gone and sold for funds towards paying for Voldemort's Snatcher squads. He wasn't particularly hopeful about finding anything from the Peverell Family in the Vault, but he wasn't going to let the Goblins just take it; not after their display with him being unable to access his own bank account.

They had stopped him or Kreacher from having access to it on the basis that he had robbed the bank and damaged the Goblins' property at the same time. He had had to go down with Kingsley as an escort to talk it through with them and pay compensation for the damage he had caused before they were satisfied. Apparently they weren't entirely satisfied; that had been several weeks ago and they hadn't mentioned these new vaults at all. He assumed he was on some kind of black list.

'Five days…' Ron muttered, rereading the letter on the table, 'and it's Friday afternoon; the sneaky gits: the bank will be shut by now and won't open till Monday. That only gives you three days.'

'Plenty of time,' Harry replied, he wasn't bothered about time; after all, all he needed to do was go to Diagon Alley and that was only a fireplace away.

Mr Weasley had explained what "his majority" was when they asked him; it simply meant that he had come of age, he had reached seventeen.

What intrigued Harry most though, was that a new Potter Vault was now open to him. He had been in his own Vault plenty of times over the years and there was nothing in there except piles of galleons, sickles and knuts. Would there be more of the same in the Potter Vault or would there be more family orientated objects? He had been to Godric's Hollow and seen the ruin of his parents' home; _his_ home, really, the question that had come to mind on reading the letter though, was about his grandparents. Where had his Dad's mother and father lived, what had they been like? He had faded six year old memories from a mirror that he wasn't even sure were real of his grandparents; he didn't even know their names.

There was so much he still had to learn about his family; his parents. All he had were some photographs and a half crumpled letter from his mother to Sirius; what had his Mum's friends been like. He had met the Marauders; Remus and Sirius, even Peter. But what of Lily's friends?

He took the letter of Ron and reread the last line out loud, "_Upon the event of your death, prior to the collection of your Key, the contents of the Vault will revert to the bank."_

Ron and Ginny both grinned at him, 'Fat chance of that happening, eh?' was Ron's response.

Harry couldn't help but grin back; Voldemort was dead, Bellatrix was dead, Lucius Malfoy was waiting trial and the rest of the Death Eaters and their followers had been killed or captured at Hogwarts. Several had escaped, but the remnants of the Auror Office were on their tail and Kingsley, still as Acting Minister for Magic, was doing an incredible job of pulling the Ministry back together.

* * *

Harry dreamt that night; it was his first dream in weeks, his first dream since the days following the Battle, in fact.

It started the way the others had; people appeared out of the mist by the school lake, they surrounded him silently as he looked from face to face, recognising each one. Fred, Remus, Tonks, little Colin Creevey, Professor Sinistra; the Astronomy Professor, several Aurors; Dawlish and Williamson among others he recognised; Mandy Brocklehurst, Jake Summers and other students; then the rest. Harry knew every one of their faces and names; he and Kingsley had visited each of their families separately and told them how important their loved ones had been, watched the grieving faces and tried to provide some small measure of comfort.

They encircled him; not threatening, just watching. There were Aurors, students, Law Enforcement Officers, professional Quidditch players, office workers, fathers, sons, mothers and daughters. They had come for him.

He sank to his knees, 'Please,' he begged, 'Forgive me. Please. I didn't mean for this to happen.'

Then he was walking down a corridor past the sign of the Deathly Hallows; the sign of the three brothers and the Peverell Family, carved into the rock. It was a dark tunnel really; a lamp flickering somewhere nearby and a heavy wooden door stood ajar at the end, the sign burnt into the wood. It was dark beyond the doorway, as though the light was being sucked through it and he thought he could whispering, a whispering like that beyond the veil of the Department of Mysteries.

He reached it and pushed it wide open, it swung forward easily and he stumbled with it. There was nothing in front of him and he jerked back with a yell, his foot dangling over a sheer drop until someone suddenly pushed him from behind. He fell screaming into the abyss.

* * *

'Harry! It's okay, it's okay!'

Someone was stroking his face and whispering his name, someone with a soft voice and a cool hand; Ginny. She pushed his glasses into his hand and he pressed them to his face.

'Bad dream?' she asked quietly.

'Was falling,' he muttered thickly, his heart racing with the adrenalin of it.

He looked around, trying to get his bearings and remembered he was in Percy's room. Percy was sleeping in Fred's bed now; keeping George company during the night. It was still dark.

'What are you doing down here?' he asked dim figure.

'I couldn't sleep and I thought I heard noises up here,' she said.

She lifted the duvet up and crawled in beside him, saying, 'I can't stay, Mum'll kill me if she finds me here in the morning.'

She lay facing him, wearing one of her old nightdresses and stroking his cheek, she must have felt the tears on it, but she only said, 'I miss them too.'

She must have kept stroking his face until he fell asleep once more, because when he woke again it was morning and she was gone.


End file.
